


Why Don't They Just Say It?

by Zebeyithra



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Sex, Sexy Times, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zebeyithra/pseuds/Zebeyithra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana and Cullen won't stop fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Don't They Just Say It?

**Author's Note:**

> aka I should be sleeping, but....  
> As always, reviews/responses are always welcome!

  “We need to get them out of here.” The whole of the Inquisitor’s party were gathered around one of the tables in Skyhold’s tavern, listening to the roaring coming from the main hall. It echoed marvelously along the stone walls, building into a force all its own. The roaring was, in fact, the Inquisitor fighting with Commander Cullen once more. This was a daily occurrence, usually happening as soon as the War Table let out. Whether it was their conflicting backgrounds or simply the poor fortune of circumstance, it never took long for one to get under the other’s skin.

  Something crashed loudly, and Diana’s voice overtook Cullen’s for once, making the companions wince. The Iron Bull had ripped pieces from the tablecloth and shoved them in his ears, taking time to rip a set for everyone. Dorian took them gratefully, passing them down to Varric and so on. It seemed the only ones who cared to listen were Sera, ever grateful for the chaos, and Cole. Cassandra groaned, tipping back her flagon once more as Cullen yelled something about Diana being pigheaded.

  “What are they fighting about this time?” Blackwall mumbled, refilling any empty mugs with the large jug he brought over from the bar. Several mugs were raised quickly, clashing together. Josephine sat down with a weary sigh, fishing a lost cup from the table and downing its contents.

  “Over who is more correct, believe it or not. Diana believes Gaspard would be best for the throne because he’s been trained since birth for it. Cullen agrees, but only because Gaspard is a military man,” she mumbled into her cup, covering her mouth delicately with her hand as she burped quietly. “Now they’re fighting over why Gaspard should ascend to the throne.” The silence was broken as they laughed, Varric nearly tumbling off of his chair. Sera snorted, grabbing the dwarf before he could fall.

  “They need to get it over with,” Varric guffawed, earning him one of Cole’s questioning stares. “Maybe when you’re older, Kid.”

  “They should just say what they mean,” Cole mumbled, holding one of the mugs precariously between his fingertips. He had recently begun to mimic some of Varric’s habits, although his scowl was altogether Solas’.

  “Such as?” Bull leaned in, eyes glistening as the hope of gossip made the whole table quiet down. Cole turned his gaze towards the hall where something else shattered, earning another wince. A tiny elven woman could be seen tearing her way out of the main hall in her haste to get away from the confrontation. Cole’s eyes went out of focus and his lips began to spill.

  “Worry every time you’re gone, daft woman. Dead, dying, worse? Don’t know what I’d do. Make the ache go away every time. Maker please…” Cole shook his head, gripping the table as he came back to himself. Dorian sighed, his hand signaling for Cole to go on.

  “Please, we already knew that part. Now, our fearless leader?”

  “Are you sure you want to hear that?” Leliana had appeared behind Josephine, earning a friendly smile. Dorian, however, jumped a mile out of his seat, cursing loudly.

  “ _Fasta vas_! Sit down, Spymaster,” he grumbled, passing a tankard towards her. The whole table leaned in as if listening to an old ghost story. Cole frowned, closing his eyes. It took a full minute before he began to speak.

  “ _Taire et écouter_ , I need you to listen. Please. Maker, take me, I need you. Don’t think that. I don’t deserve him. Merde, his lips. Why is he so beautiful when he’s angry? Smile. Please.” The words were light and pleading, almost melodically flowing between Orlesian and Common. Cole’s brows met as he returned. “Why doesn’t she just ask?” Varric shook his head, leaning in to try to make it simple.

  A warmth spread between Leliana and, oddly, Bull. Nearly identical smiles crept onto their faces as they shared a look.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Red?” Bull raised his glass, waiting for her to toast him.

  “Isolation, followed by…” She tilted her head, thinking. Bull waited for Leliana to work it out a moment longer before she gasped, grinning. Josephine pushed away from the table.

  “I know that smile. I never like anything following that smile.”

  “Oh, you will, dear Josie. Bull, are those camps still up on the Coast?”

 

* * *

 

  “I can’t believe you!” Diana had remained quiet until the long train of wagons were out of sight, spinning on her heel to rage at Cullen. They were dressed in plainclothes, trying to pass unnoticed into the Storm Coast in search of some obscure outpost. Leliana had insisted it was of the utmost importance, and only they could attempt to retrieve whatever lay at its center. Cullen fumed silently, beginning to stalk up the small path towards the summit of a small treeless hill. “Where are you going?”

  “Away! Preferably from you!” His answer echoed off the cliffsides, startling a cluster of birds further off. Diana might be the Inquisitor, but he couldn’t take another moment of her scrutiny. He missed the comforting weight of his armor as he climbed, glancing across the valley as he crested the hill.

  The Storm Coast was dreary, eternally stormy and dark. The constant crash of waves gave the air a strange salty tang, and he took a moment to enjoy the sea air before he heard Diana pulling herself up next to him. She opened her mouth to speak, going silent as she watched the water. Something seemed to still in her, a small smile breaking her angry frown. Cullen glanced over at her, expecting some quip. Instead, he was caught off guard.

  Her hair had broken free from its normally well-controlled braid. The sea air had taken to it, making it curl and frizz. In the wind, it seemed to take on a life of its own, bouncing and curling about her face. Diana seemed calmed, her eyes watching the waves. The dusting of freckles across her cheeks were vibrant from the tan she’d earned during one of her last excursions, and the stormy skies seemed to make her eyes ever more silver-blue. She licked the salt off her lips, and his eyes watched her tongue dart out and across her plump lips. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and sighing loudly.

  “Does it remind you of home?” Cullen asked softly, already kicking himself as he broke the silence. Diana opened her eyes, one brow cocked up questioningly.

  “Yes. My family’s chateau was on the ocean when I was growing up. How did you know?” He fidgeted, his hand going for his missing blade. He endured only a tad bit more scrutiny before he broke.

  “Leliana doesn’t know, I swear. But, there were only a few Free Marcher families with any Orlesian in them, and even fewer that made their children learn the tongue.” Diana moved in front of him, her hands moving to her hips. “Living in Kirkwall, I had to learn about the families. I just didn’t know your family had a daughter.” The retort building in her died, and her eyes dropped, following her shoulders. Cullen watched her as she looked along the coast.

  “Not if my mother had anything to say about it. There,” Diana pointed, singling out a lone cabin nestled into the trees. “It’s going to be dark. We should get moving.” Cullen reached for her shoulder, only to have her disappear before him, the sound of skidding shoes sliding down the sheer stone face leaving him alone. Grumbling, he followed down the worn side path.

 

  In less than an hour, the uncomfortable pair had forced open the rusted door of the single roomed cabin. It was barely larger than a wagon, but it did have a fireplace. Cullen immediately got to work, collecting anything dry enough to burn. Diana closed the door, a chill settling on her as she saw a pair of eyes glowing in the darkness. She knew, between the two of them, they could take any animal, but she was exhausted.

  “Hand me the flint?” Cullen pressed his hand out, fingers beckoning towards her. Diana snorted, sitting down on the floor next to him.

  “That should be in your pack, Ser,” she grumbled, arranging the skirts under her so the damp floor wasn’t nearly as noticeable. Cullen nodded.

  “Yes, and last I saw, it was next to you…”

  “... On the wagon.” Diana finished, pressing her face into her hands as Cullen let himself fall back, his rear thumping on the floor. He groaned loudly, feeling his blood pressure rise.

  “On the bloody wagon, of course! The one that’s apparently my fault we got kicked off of!” He glared at her, digging his fingers into the dirt floor.

  “Only because you couldn’t keep your story straight! ‘Oh, we’re siblings! No, we’re married! What? We’re catching a ship, I mean, heading to Denerim!’” She dropped her voice, making it deep and rumbling like his. In another time, he might have laughed at the imitation, but it only made him even more angry.

  “And what was your advice? ‘Just keep your mouth shut and look pretty’,” he replied, pitching his voice high. She snarled, a constant stream of curses under her breath as she rose. “And now, we have no fire!” Diana snapped her fingers and a flame jumped to life in the kindling, slowly burning until the flames glowed warmly. She brought her hands up in a shrug.

  “Mage.”

  Cullen and Diana stared at each other. Their frowns twitched and, a moment later, they were laughing obscenely. The mere sound of the other laughing spurred them on until they were breathless, rolling on the ground next to each other.

  “D-did you know,” Diana hiccupped, giggling, “That you snort when you laugh?” Cullen rolled closer to her, the tension dropping between them.

  “And you sound utterly absurd.” He leaned over, poking her nose. They both fell back into drunken giggles, enjoying the warmth as they finally fell into a comfortable silence. Cullen stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to the occasional giggle bubble up out of his companion. He wouldn’t mind hearing that more often, he found himself thinking.

  “So… we have no supplies, no bedding, but we have shelter,” Diana said quietly, shivering a little as the cold from the ground began to creep into her limbs. “The ground’s too cold to sleep right on.” Cullen looked over to see her rising, her brows furrowed as she thought. She bit her lip, glancing between herself, the floor, and Cullen, before she began to unbutton her dress.

  “Diana!” Cullen looked away, blinkering himself with one hand as she huffed.

  “I have an underdress on, Cullen. Have you never undressed a woman? I swear,” Diana mumbled on, unlacing the strings until the dress lay out to it’s fullest. With the skirt folded over the bodice, it provided a few layers of protection as she placed it close to fire. Cullen dropped his hand and began to undo his coat, laying it over her dress. Dressed as Fereldan commoners, the layers were an important part of weathering the inclement climes of the Coast. Cullen was long since used to this, but it appeared Diana had not planned for any unfortunate mishaps.

  The ‘underdress’ was little more than a sheer muslin shift, and in the moist air, it was quickly becoming damp. In the few spots it stuck, it became transparent. Its thin stripes did little to break the swath of freckles that covered her shoulders, disappearing under the edge of the cloth. The outline of her body was evident, and he was certain he saw the familiar blue tint of her facial tattoo copied somewhere on her hip.

  Diana blushed brightly as she looked up to see Cullen. What had begun innocently enough had turned his gaze almost hungry, and she felt goosebumps race up her back. She was used to seeing Cullen well armored. Now, dressed in breeches and a shirt that was only slightly thicker than her underdress, she could see the curve of his shoulders that flowed into his arms. A hint of muscle made the sleeves tight around his biceps. Her teeth found her lip, biting back a gasp, as he bent over and she saw the arch of his back, rippling in the firelight.

  Somewhere in all of the gazing and watching, their eyes had returned to one another and they both laughed sheepishly.

  “Well, I feel foolish,” Diana quipped, her voice jumping higher than normal as she knelt down on the makeshift bed. The mix of fabrics felt comfortable enough under her, and the fire was quick to warm her skin. Cullen matched her laugh before carefully kneeling next to her. They shared a smile and Diana, in a moment of carefree fancy, let herself fall back onto the bedding with a thump. Her hair splayed out around her as she stretched, groaning as her back popped a few times. She let her arms fall up above her head and she sighed. The fire was beginning to warm her skin, the moisture warming until she was covered in a sheen. She opened her eyes, looking up to Cullen. He was still kneeling by her feet, his shoulders rolling as he seemed to be restraining himself.

  “You don’t look foolish,” He corrected her, his voice ending in a rumble. Cullen watched her skin flush, appearing from under her gown. It spread across the swell of her chest and up her neck, thinning out under the freckles that claimed her cheeks. He leaned forward, resting his weight on his hands and slowly crept up her body. With every step, he paused, waiting for Diana to tell him to stop. Every inch forward, however, seemed to only still her. Her eyes blinked and her chest rose and fell, but no protests.

  Gently, he lifted his leg, placing one hand and knee on either side of her body. Cullen froze as she rose up on her elbows, watching intently. Diana gave the slightest of nods and he started forward again, his eyes boring into her. The fire crackled, popping as Cullen’s hands finally rested next to Diana’s, their fingers teasing each other.

  “How do I look, then?” Her smile was bright, nervousness making her limbs shake, as she tilted her head up to look at him. His hair was slightly disheveled, locks falling towards his face. He too was covered in a thin layer of dew, and Diana had the urge to taste his skin. Cullen brought a hand up to cup the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her long hair before leaning in closer than they had ever been. Gold flakes shined in his honey brown eyes, entrancing her as he spoke.

  “Gorgeous.” He grinned as he answered, keeping his lips close enough to brush against hers as she spoke. Cullen grinned wider when he felt the shiver run up her body, her head falling back into his hand. Diana felt as he tilted her head back up, pressing his lips against hers in a chaste moment. The sea salt on their skin made it tangy, but she could taste the sweet berries he enjoyed every morning still on his lips.

  Cullen pulled back, waiting for her eyes to open. When they finally did, her gaze was even more hungry than his, her hands dragging up his forearms until one rested in his hair. With a moan, she closed the distance between them, pulling him down on her so their lips crushed together. She nipped at his lip, making him hiss. He was briefly enraged, the warrior in him rising to the challenge. Grabbing her hips, he rolled, pulling her on top of him. Diana straddled him delicately, as if she did things any other way. The hem of her gown had ridden up and was now a tantalizing curtain between them.

  Diana followed his gaze, catching him off guard as she ground her hips down. Her moan was obscene and full bodied. His arousal was evident, pressing against the fabric of his breeches and up into her smallclothes. She let her head fall back, the firelight catching the shine of her hair as she began to grind and moan. Cullen’s hands reverently traveled up her hips, along the curve of her sides until they hovered just beyond her breasts questioningly. Instead, they traveled inward, seeking the ribboned ties that held it together.

  Cullen sat up, his hands spreading across her back to hold her on his lap as he dove in, taking the ribbon by the end in his teeth. This close, he could see her steel blue eyes were already blown in lust, pupils jet black and wide. Her chest heaved and he pulled. Shivers ran down her body when he deftly maneuvered one hand to brush the straps off her as if they were little more than snow on her shoulders. The muslin fell, pooling around her waist, and she expected her breastband to stay. Cullen had other ideas.

  His fingers had worked the ties in the back and her breasts fell free. Her flesh here was pale and soft, untouched by sun or blade. A lightest dusting of freckles ended here, teasing just above her rosy areolas. Diana gasped as Cullen took one breast in hand, the callouses on his fingertips scratching pleasantly against her skin. He leaned in, locking her gaze as he darted his tongue out, letting it tap the very tip of her nipple. Her moan was sharp, gasping for air as the shock ran through her breast and across her skin. His feral grin was too much, suckling the needy teat between his lips as her hands scrambled, scratching at his shirt and back. He let it fall from his lips, pulling his shirt up over his head. Diana was there, fingers teasing the scars that ran across his chest. Nearly leaping, she caught his kiss again, hungrily moaning as his tongue probed at hers. They stayed in each other’s kiss, reveling in this closeness before Cullen pulled back.

  “Are you sure-” Diana frowned briefly, grinding her moistening apex down and taking his face in her hands, kissing him once more. Cullen let a growl rip through him and he flipped her over onto her back, pinning her hands over her head. The fire flared as her hands hit the floor, and her familiar competitive grin had returned.

  “Diana, maybe we should talk-” He stopped, seeing her body still under his restraint. Her lip had split a little under his aggressive ministrations, the tiniest droplets of blood hanging off her bottom lip as she whispered.

  “Cullen. Kiss me.” Her tongue ran out along her lip, catching the droplet and moistening her lip before whispering huskily, “ _Please_.”

  She felt his hands press against her wrists, and his lips were on hers once more. This was less the hungry devouring of before. Cullen’s mouth wrote prayers on her skin, whispering promises and apologies while his hands ran down her arms, along her ribs and down to her hips. Hooking his thumbs in the crooks of her smalls, he slowly shimmied them off, feeling her kick them away. Even here, he could feel the heat rolling from her center. Cullen felt drunk on her, his head swimming as he moved one hand down towards this warmth. Diana cried out, her skin prickling as one thick finger began to tease and prod, quickly coated in her own juices. He swirled, mapping her reactions before pressing his finger into the deepest part. Words tumbled from her lips in a river of sighs and moans before she whimpered the one word he wanted to hear.

  “Cullen…” It was nearly sinful, needy and raspy. Several foreign words tumbled after it, and he nipped at her neck, making her eyes flash open. She clenched around his finger, urging his teeth to sink into her shoulder as he began to slowly and lazily thrust the digit in and out.

  “You maddening woman,” Cullen growled in her ear, making her tilt her head until her slender neck was offered to him. He wasted no time peppering the delicate flesh with tiny bites, raising small welts where his teeth bit too hard. She hissed and whimpered, but if the snapping of her hips said anything, he knew now where to undo her. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled his finger out of her, listening to her whimpers and sighs like a fine opera.

  He sat back, sliding out of his breeches before climbing back in between her knees, following his trail of kisses up her hip, between the valley of her breasts until he felt her fluttering heart beneath his kisses. Here he paused, his brow furrowing as he pressed the most reverent of kisses to her chest. Diana looked down, her breath shaky as he stalked back up to her, kissing her as his hands wrapped her legs up over his hips. Her own hands shook, scrambling over his body as if this were their only moment. Finally, they locked behind his neck, grasping as he pulled them up, sitting on his heels. One hand splayed under her buttocks, giving them a hearty squeeze that made them both chuckle breathily. Diana pressed her forehead to Cullen’s, brushing their noses together as she began to sink. His manhood was waiting beneath her, taking only the slightest of upward thrusts of his hips to meet her dripping slit. She gave a loud gasp at the contact and Cullen pulled back, checking her face for signs of harm.

  “Its just,” She swallowed, panting between the words, “It’s been awhile.” Cullen chuckled loudly, wrapping one arm around her torso until their chests pressed close together. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting their foreheads rest against each other.

  “I promise, I will never hurt you,” he swore, his voice tender as she began to sink onto him. Diana was deliciously hot and velvety, and it took all his strength to not pin her back to the floor and ravish her. She mewled, her teeth dragging along the curve of his ear as he sunk deeper and deeper into her. He groaned, stroking her hair back so he could watch her expression. Her lips were parted, brows slightly furrowed and her eyes fluttered open and shut, focused on nothing and everything all at once. Cullen gave an experimental thrust and watched her come to life, eyes opening as a cry ripped from her throat.

  “Oohh!” Her nails scratched against his back, sending the familiar tingle of magic along his spine. A glow began to form over her eyes and thrust up once more, a bit more power behind it. “Ohhhh, _fuck_ …” Cullen froze, trying to keep the amusement at hearing his normally composed Inquisitor begging. Diana was having none of it, rocking her hips so she bounced on his throbbing cock until he groaned. His hands flew to her ass, maneuvering her up and down as they raced towards oblivion. Tiny sparks arced between them, and their lips battled against one another, gasps and moans escaping.  

  Diana suddenly grew silent, her throat contracting before she curled around him, seating him deep in her as a shattering cry ripped through her. She clenched and fluttered around his hard cock, shivering as if shockwaves ran through her. His kisses covered her bare neck as she chanted his name over and over, giving one last cry before going limp in his arms.

  Cullen cupped her head in his hands, laying her back on the ground as he raked her hair back. Her eyes twitched under her lids before snapping open, gasping as she filled her lungs once more.

  “ _Votre tour, monsieur_ ,” she gasped, the words rough and ragged. Diana’s kisses were bruising, pushing him onward. Cullen groaned, setting a steady pace as he thrust over and over, hips snapping hard enough to move her up a little each time. Her breasts bounced tantalizingly under him, and, within a few moments, he gripped her wrists above her head. Fire pooled deep in him and he roared, trembling as he came, hot and spurting deep into her. Diana whined, feeling his cock quiver and jump deep in her before Cullen collapsed next to her.

  They lay side by side, limbs entangled for a time before Cullen finally turned Diana’s face towards him with a gentle press of his hand. She smiled softly, her heart finally slowing down to a comfortable beat under his hand.

  “You, madame,” he whispered, letting his breath tease her skin, “Nearly scared me.” Her giggle was weak, but he could hear a hint of her normal mischievousness in it. “You could have warned me.”

  “Well, they don’t call it _le petit mort_ for nothing.” Her swollen lips brushed his, and he could see her eyes fluttering closed. Cullen let his fingers brush gently through her tangled mane of hair, praying to the Maker this wasn’t a dream.

 

* * *

  
  


  “Well, did they, y’know?” Bull asked, watching Diana and Cullen across the courtyard as they listened to a messenger conveying something. He was kneeling behind the bushes in front of the tavern with Dorian, Cole, and Varric, working as the lookout. Cole closed his eyes, searching through the sea of thoughts while Varric waited, quill and paper in hand.

  “Softer than any silk, her skin burns through me. Maker, thank you,” Cole sighed, Dorian blushing as he tapped Cole’s shoulder, pushing for the details. Varric’s quill scrapped quickly, trying to keep up as Cole suddenly let out a long held breath.

  “What is it, Kid?” Cole’s gaze traveled up and a stream of Orlesian tumbled from him before he finally answered once more.

  “When can I get his hands on me again? Pin me down, make me cry again, oh fu-”

  “ **VARRIC TETHRAS, WHERE IS MY BOARD?** ” A raging Josephine made the whole of Skyhold turn to the only bush with giant horns sticking out of it. The only thing more surprising was the combined laughter of Diana and Cullen, who soon disappeared.

 

 


End file.
